wake n. 1. aftermath, backwash the consequences of an event (especially a catastrophic event); “the aftermath”; 2. the wave that spreads behind a boat as it moves forward; 3. a vigil held over a corpse the night before burial; wake v 3. inflame, stir up, wake, ignite, heat, fire up(arouse or excite feelings and passions; 4. wake, make aware of.
In the wake of her death, it has occurred to me that no one really knows much about my relationship with Mary Ellen. Many of the memories that have invaded my daily life these last few weeks are quiet, personal moments I shared with “Eddie” alone. Our intimate relationship, the length we were a couple, was very private. There are a few reasons for this, number one being she was my first girlfriend. I had only been “out” (though I prefer the term “awake”) less than a year, and was not open about my sexuality with most of my world — not work or family, or many of my friends. Few people outside my tiny but growing community knew Eddie and I were dating. Only one of those community members is still a part of my life any more; that would be Joelle, who introduced us, a hysterical story I’ll tell another time. The one other person who did witness first hand a great deal of mine and Eddie’s relationship is … poof! A chair. So even though I have Joelle to ‘remember’ with, there is no one left that shared those experiences. And I’m petrified that I will forget. Someday, even I won’t remember.
Maybe this is something people realize or go through when they lose someone close, someone who meant a great deal. I’ve never lost someone like this, not a relative, not a casual friend. She, over the years, has been so much more to me; a lover, a friend, confidant, target practice….
“There is no more perfect beverage in the world than water. Nothing is so clean, fresh. It taste pure and refreshing, it doesn’t clog up your throat or coat your tongue, it doesn’t leave an aftertaste. Nothing like water!”
Mary Ellen was almost 15 years my senior. I was a late bloomer, so I didn’t “awaken”, or come out, until I was 24 years old. My situation was a little different from most lesbians; I never realized I was different, never knew I was gay, until I literally had an “A-ha! Moment” (thank you Oprah!) at 24. So when I met Eddie, I was YOUNG! Both literally and figuratively. I was new at ‘being’ gay, I was just awakening, starting, a new life. At that time, Eddie was…. well, Eddie was where I am right now!! She was tired, worn, lazy, jaded. She had seen life, experienced people, jobs, had her heart broken. She didn’t want to hang out at bars or dance clubs, partying. She wanted to rent a movie and order chinese food and be in bed by midnight.
It’s no wonder we only lasted about a year. But lets not get a head of ourselves.
I wanted to know everything, and Edie was patient with my questions, curiosity, and wonderings. You see, once I “realized” I was gay, I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, I wanted to tell everyone I knew, I wanted to learn everything I could learn. But we live in a small city and in my Roman Catholic Family and neighborhood, I didn’t know anyone gay. I had no frame of reference, I didn’t know what it meant to be GAY. Suddenly, I was enmeshed with an entire group of other, like minded, individuals and I wanted to know all there was to know. I was a sponge, and I soaked up the lifestyle with every pore of my being. It was an amazing time for me, I don’t know if it’s because of my age at the time, or the experience I was going through, but looking back, it was just magical. I was direct care staff at work so I worked forty hours in four days, and had three days off. Most of the time, I would get out of work at 7:30 on Wednesday and not have to be back until 9 a.m. on Sunday. Thursdays were spent doing laundry, paying bills and running errands and then I’d have all day Friday and Saturday to do whatever I wanted, which was hang out with Eddie. We first spent all our weekends at a friends house, who gave up her double bed for us and slept on her couch so we could be together. Eddie moved right in when I got my first apartment on Orange St in Lackawanna. Well, she didn’t officially move in, that would be cliche’, she just slept over one night and never left. For a year. (I used to tell her “How can I miss you if you don’t go away?”)
We did watch a lot of movies, and order Chinese food; Eddie liked beef and broccoli. We drank beers and smoked pot. On Sundays we listened to classical radio and read the paper, making breakfast together. We cooked together a lot in those days; she taught me to make sauce, she loved my turkey and stuffing. We experimented with making the perfect pizza. We never succeeded. We got a cat, named her Nyka. She was mostly black with a white belly. Eddie adored her; she was Eddie’s “bad girlies”. Eddie used to tell her, when she was doing something wrong, or naughty, “no, no!” ”All you gotta do is tell her No no!” (It didn’t work; well, it worked for Eddie, because she wasn’t going to punish or discipline her anyway.)
We spent a lot of time at camp. That was like another world. We could be ourselves there, outside in the fresh air, we could hold hands at the fire or kiss in the moonlight. We didn’t have to hide who we were. We took long walks in the woods, explored “just over the hill, just around that bend…” We imagined the kinds of people who may have walked these paths, hunted there, through the centuries.
We only dated for a year, but remained very close friends for many years after that. We were partners against the stupid. ”What’s WRONG with people, Hannon?” ”I dunno, Eddie!” She signed every card she bought me “Eddie” and never ever called me Mary. Through the years, our relationship changed. We didn’t spend every weekend together any more and we each found others; eventually we each found our life partners. I knew I could always call her up and hear her say “Hey Hannon, how’s things?”
I know I will never be able to capture every memory we shared together…. I will not have a log book in which to document the time we shared; that’s what “memory” is about. It’s fleeting, and abstract. But the memories are also my treasures. Every time the wind blows my hair, I will ‘Thank the Goddess”, smile, and think of Eddie. When I watch a Bills game, or make chicken wings, when I make Pizza or sauce with ribs in it, when I sit at a campfire and smoke blows in my face, when I roll a joint and it’s a pinner or has too much spit on it, when I drink water and think “Ahh, there is nothing like water”, when a little kid whines and I threaten to put her in the trunk, because whiners go in the trunk, when someone asks me how I am and I ‘fry hamburgers’ and say “Psh! You know, same shit…”… I will think of Eddie. When I see a black lab wagging her tail and shaking her butt, I will call her Mrs Wigglebottom. When my kid is being naughty but so darn cute, I will call her Bad Girlies and I will think of Eddie. When I eat make a chocolate pudding pie and call it P’yoodin’, I will think of Eddie. If I ever light a kerosene lantern, or walk out to pee in the woods in the dark and throw my TP in the fire; if I ever have a cabin of my own, I will call it Tir Na Nog, the land of the fairies, and I will pilfer wood to build the fire in my stove and I will think of Eddie.
When I hear Melissa Etheridge, I will think of Eddie. I will cry, then I will laugh. I love you Eddie.
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No Souvenirs -- Melissa Etheridge
Hello, hello this is Romeo
Calling from a jackpot telephone
Shame, shame but I love your name
And the way you make the buffalo roam
Oh fly, fly I guess this is goodbye
Oh you packed up your heart
And you left no souvenirs
But if you want me you can call me
In the night you know where I'll be
Broken lover you can touch me
In the dark the innocent can't see
You lock it up now hide the key
It would mean surrender to let me see
Oh brave, brave soldier keep it under cover
You fell alone like no other lover
Burn the pictures break the records
Run far away to a northern town
Sell your fear and leave me standing here
With no souvenirs
Once, twice (KNOCK KNOCK) I thought it might be nice
To come into your kitchen ("don't touch my pooper!")and play
Cool, cool just a crazy fool
I never saw it any other way
Oh wait, wait I guess I'm just too late
Oh you made up your mind
Love shouldn't be so hard
But if you want me you can call me
In the night you know where I'll be
Broken lover you can touch me
In the dark the innocent can't see
You lock it up now hide the key
It would mean surrender to let me see
Oh brave, brave soldier keep it under cover
You fell alone like no other lover
Burn the pictures break the records
Run far away to a northern town
Sell your fear and leave me standing here
With no souvenirs
No shirts, no shoes
No jackets, no blues
You car's for sale
You forward your mail
You're growing your hair
You don't want to know where
I'm calling you from
Or how come
But if you want me you can call me
In the night you know where I'll be
Broken lover you can touch me
In the dark the innocent can't see
You lock it up now hide the key
It would mean surrender to let me see
Oh brave, brave soldier keep it under cover
You fell alone like no other lover
Burn the pictures break the records
Run far away to a northern town
Sell your fear and leave me standing here
With no souvenirs
